


Rogue

by DeliriousDove



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Venom (2018) Fusion, Attack Titan is Venom confirmed, Badass Levi Ackerman, Badass Mikasa Ackerman, Eren Is a Little Shit, Eren Yeager has a bullshit detector, Eren Yeager is a God, Eren is Eddie Brock confirmed, Eren is kinda an anti-hero?, F/M, Inspired by Venom (Movie 2018), M/M, Possessive Attack Titan, Possessive Levi Ackerman, Protective Attack Titan, Protective Levi Ackerman, Protective Mikasa Ackerman, Rogue just wants Eren to himself wink-wonk, The 9 Titans are literally venom symbiotes, The Attack Titan is named Rogue here, Venom would approve of Rogue, and chocolate, and tbh Eren digs it, but still a god, has anyone done this before?, he likes brains, like Venom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 03:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20147050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeliriousDove/pseuds/DeliriousDove
Summary: Eren Yeager had a bullshit-detector. And everything about the Marley Foundation set off that bullshit detector.He knew something was off about that place. And he was determined to find out what. He didn't care what he had to do (or sacrifice) it was simply for the greater good. When he discovers more than he's bargained for, however, his life comes crashing down around him. He's now stuck with a ruined life, and an extraterrestrial parasite that calls itself "Rogue."





	Rogue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to the fanfic! I hope you enjoy. :) I loved Venom so much, and also love Attack on Titan. I saw some similarities and combined them, so I pray everything works out good. This might not follow Venom (2018) too directly, so beware. It'll have its own twists. :D

ROGUE  
Chapter One

Eren sat up with a strangled gasp. 

His hands clutched close to his chest, he panted. His eyes darted wildly around the room, and he tried to regain his bearings. Another damned nightmare. Of flashing lights, smoke, and terror. Of his father’s desperate gaze, hands reaching out to him--

Tugging at strands of his hair, Eren scowled. What did this dream mean? What did it symbolize? Why was he giving himself false hope that his father was still out there? What, did he have some psychic link to his father who’d vanished over a year ago? And if he somehow did, why was it just conveniently popping up now? Of all times? 

Shaking his head, Eren realized that theory was just some pile of junk. Something his graveling, frantic mind had made up to try and convince him his father was still alive. There was no such thing as ‘psychic abilities’ or anything else closely related to magical. And if there was, then it was dead. Magic -- was a thing of the past. Maybe that’s how the Egyptians built their pyramids. Or maybe, they had extraterrestrial help. 

Funny. Where were those alleged aliens, now? When Earth was at its shittiest . . . Well, maybe the aliens saw how messed-up Earth was, and decided to take a nice detour and never come back. Eren couldn’t blame them. If he was given the option, he’d pack his bags and flee the planet entirely. 

But that wasn’t possible, and so he was doomed to stay in the same place for eternity. Sitting up in his bed, sweat sticking to his face and clothes, he wondered if this was his eternity. Having the same wretched nightmare go on, over and over again, in his head until he wanted to scream. And occasionally, he did. He’d fire his lungs off into a pillow until they felt completely sore and aching. 

Yet even then, that wasn’t enough. The pent-up anger and agitation inside of him still remained, and he could feel it. It clung to him like glue, and he couldn’t get rid of it. It stuck to his body like it never wanted to let him go. The rage, the sorrow, the regret . . . It filled him to the brim, like his creator was simply a little kid who poured too much of the wrong stuff into a bowl, and it overflowed. That -- was exactly Eren’s miserable situation (life). 

Every time he thought something was looking up, it was all torn down right in front of him. He was wondering when the next catastrophic disaster would hit. And who would the world take from him this time? He hoped it was his coworker, Jean. That guy was a real pain in his ass. 

Speaking of coworkers -- working. He had to get ready. He tossed his soggy blankets off of himself, grimacing. Yeah, he’d have to wash those later. They were pretty dirty . . . He slipped, more like fell, out of bed. His socks slid on the wood floor, and he nearly toppled over in his delirious state.

Cursing to himself, Eren regained his footing and shuffled his way into the bathroom -- but not before slamming his hand down on his alarm clock. He’d woken up an hour before he was supposed to, but he didn’t want it to eventually go off and annoy him or potentially scare the shit out of him. It had happened a couple times before, each ending progressively worse. 

Dragging his feet, Eren flung himself nearly on top of the sink. With a groan, he looked at himself in the mirror. God, what a mess he was! Dark, shaggy hair ruffled impossibly raggedly. Big purple bags underneath his eyes, which kind-of made him look like a serial killer. Pale, gaunt skin that shone with sweat from his night terrors. Jesus, he looked like a trainwreck. But, was that even new? 

His friends and comrades had grown accustomed to calling him a zombie. And, hey, who was he kidding? Friends? These people probably dreaded walking in and seeing him every morning. It wasn’t like he brightened their day or anything. The only person he could remotely consider a friend was Mikasa Ackerman. And, well, that didn’t count since they were (shockingly) dating. 

That’s like saying your mother is your best friend. 

To press salt into the already-open wound, many people (mainly Jean) often wondered how Eren scored a girl like Mikasa. She was strong, fierce, loyal, and most of all -- loving. She was always there for Eren when he needed her. When things went to shit, he could count on Mikasa as his shoulder to lean on. After losing his most influential figures in his life, Mikasa helped him piece the broken shards of himself back together. He felt like . . . not as much of a fuck-up when he was with her. 

He didn’t know how she could deal with all of his . . . well, packages, but she did. She shouldered the weight like a pro-wrestler, and aided him with anything. Psychically, and mentally. He sometimes wondered if she was stronger than him. It sure seemed like it. The way she moved and acted; God, she was so out of his league. It made him think: maybe good, sweet people really did always get fucked over by abominations like him. He wasn’t deserving of all her good treatment. 

Jean made that clear enough. Rubbing it into his face every twenty-five seconds. Flirting aimlessly with Mikasa every chance he got. Didn’t that qualify as harassment? Eren wasn’t trying to get into a legal debate, but he sometimes wondered if he really should sue Jean, because it was better than him eventually snapping and punching the long-nosed bastard in his smug, horse-like, face. 

Yawning, Eren pushed his negative thoughts away. Mikasa was trying to teach him how to be ‘more positive’ and ‘less pessimistic’ but that was hard since neither of them were extreme optimists. She would go out of her way to try and brighten a situation, which strained her he knew. She was the same as him, calling a shit-show when she saw it. She didn’t like to sugarcoat things. 

And yet for Eren, she did. Sometimes, he was grateful for her efforts. Other times, he wondered why she was even trying. He wasn’t some naive child, who was easily influenced and manipulated. He thought that sometimes, she wished he was. He debated on why she tried so hard to keep his spirits up. It wasn’t like anything could be done to boost his morale when shit was already hitting the fan and swirling in circles around the room. It was just humiliating. But whatever. A for effort. 

Turning on the faucet, Eren gathered some water into his hands, splashing his face. Gasping, he shuddered as the freezing spray hit him directly in the eyes. Dumbass -- he probably should’ve closed them. Shaking his head, he splashed himself once more. Again and again, over and over, until his face was numb and bitter with cold. Droplets rolled down his nose, dripping onto his lip. 

He grit his teeth together, feeling them scraping. He dug his nails into his damp palms, until he felt skin cave and break, and a different type of dampness spread over his flesh. A minor cut, one he could easily hide. People scraped themselves with their nails all the time . . . He dug his fingers into the small incisions, and then straightened up. Enough of that. Mikasa hated when he did that . . . 

Cracking his back, Eren fixed his hair and tried making himself seem more presentable, though nothing really worked. He did finger-guns in the mirror, twirled around, winked, smiled -- and nothing formed a result. Each time, his gaze was still as dead and devoid as ever. Well, great. 

Moving out of the bathroom, he dragged his feet down the hallway, into the kitchen. Perhaps eating something would magically fix him? Like in those movies? He scratched the back of his head. Well, maybe, if he had someone cooking for him. He wasn’t exactly a world-class chef. If he had approved of Mikasa living with him, he would have something made for him, he was sure. But she wasn’t his slave. She wasn’t his puppet to just -- command and toy around with. He could make food himself. 

Maybe . . . He’d gently declined Mikasa from living here, because he didn’t want to be smothered. Was he being smothered? Was that what this all was? She was sometimes like a doting mother, hovering over him anxiously, barely giving him room to breathe. And -- that was okay, sure. But all the time, twenty-four-seven, could potentially be stretching things. He loved her, he did, but . . . He just needed some space. He knew that excuse wouldn’t work in the long run; what if she wanted to marry him? What kind of couple that was actually serious didn’t live together . . . ?

Fuck. Here he was, stressing again, and-- 

“Fuck!” The milk he’d been pouring into a pitifully small (and mildly dirty) bowl had spilled, and was now splattered all over his counter. Irritated, Eren grabbed a towel and wiped it up. He was so prone to drifting off, he made silly mistakes like this. No wonder Mikasa treated him like a kid. 

The thought was so frustrating to him, he crunkled up the milk carton and huffed. Slamming it back into the fridge, he abandoned the bowl onto the messy counter and husseled himself into the living room. He didn’t need to eat. No, no not that. What he needed, what he needed was to-- 

What did he need? 

Scratching his head, Eren flopped down onto his couch. What he needed was a break. A break from life itself. That sounded really, really nice. It was the only solution he could think of to his dilemma. Shuddering, he curled up into a ball. When was it so cold in this damned living room? 

Closing his eyes, he felt exhaustion pulling at him. He didn’t know why. He hadn’t really done anything, whatsoever. All he’d done was splash himself with water like a fool, stumble into the kitchen and make a mess, then fall down onto his couch. Definitely not the most eventful things he’s done, yet he still felt like he was carrying the world on his shoulders. Which was, not pleasant.

Groaning, Eren rolled over, pressing his face into a pillow. If he just shut his eyes and dozed for a while; well, where was the harm in that? He’d woken up far before he was supposed to, and he never really slept for long. If he did snooze off, then he’d wake up in ten minutes, tops. He was never really late for work, anyway, so it wasn’t like if he messed up this once he’d get fired. 

Right? Eh, right. Whatever. I’m tired. 

Slumping over, Eren shivered slightly. So tired . . . Yet usually, he could never sleep. Such an unusual turn of events. He wondered if he would have that same damned nightmare again. The idea almost roused him into a sitting position, but he comforted himself by thinking he wouldn’t be sleeping long. Just a few moments of darkness, and then he’d be up and running again. 

Subuding himself, Eren managed to spiral into a familiar sense of darkness. It surrounded him on all sides like a blanket, wrapping him up in a gentle embrace and stealing him away. He let it take him away, and spun off into oblivion. He bobbed around in empty blackness for a while, before that blackness shifted and started to take a shape. He watched, frozen, as it turned into something. 

Mouth agape in a silent scream, Eren tried jerking back as two glowing green eyes stared at him from a dark mass. It was terrifying. He saw the glint of teeth, of razor-sharp fangs, and he realized those teeth were curved upwards into a menacing grin. Filled with horror, Eren felt himself go limp. He was terrified, and he knew if he wasn’t already asleep, he definitely would’ve fainted. 

What was that thing? A type of dream demon? Freddy Krueger? No, this was scarier than some old, pedophilic asshole who looked like burnt pepperoni. And Krueger wasn’t real, he was made-up from some movie. This monstrosity, it felt real, looked real -- and it was reaching out to him. Eren thought he caught the glimpse of sharp claws, and he really wished he could run away. 

“Eren,” a voice, low and rumbling -- it sent chills down his spine -- called out to him. Rendered immobile, Eren could only shiver as he heard that sinister voice roll through his whole body. His eyes flew open, then, his own name on his lips and his heart racing a million times per second. 

Sitting up hastily, Eren shivered. Sweat dripped from his hair and face, and he rubbed at his eyes. Maybe he needed some pills. Some kind of medicine had to get rid of bad dreams, right? Even if it was expensive, he could pull the money out of his ass. Just to get these awful nightmares away from him. He’d work overtime if he had to, spend more time with that fuck-face Jean, if only for nightly solace. The things he was plagued with when he closed his eyes were much worse than measly Jean. 

Stumbling off the couch, Eren went to actually get ready when he heard buzzing. Confused, he realized his phone wasn’t on him, instead back in his room. Someone must be calling him. He frowned; who was bothering to contact him this early? Probably Mikasa, asking if he wanted some breakfast. It wasn’t the first time she’d asked him if she could bring him something. It was really sweet of her. 

Especially since Eren couldn’t make a simple breakfast like cereal for shit. 

Trying to rid his mind of this morning’s terrifying nightmare, Eren hustled himself down the hall. He staggered into his room, and scoured around for his phone. He found it underneath his bed. How had it gotten there? Brushing off his confusion, he managed to slide upwards on the call (which was indeed from Mikasa) right before the line went dead. He didn’t want to miss the call, since Mikasa tended to make a huge fit if he did. Breathless, Eren coughed and rasped out, “Hello?”

“Eren!” Oh, jeez. That was never good. 

“What I do this time?” He asked glumly. Damn, he was barely even fully awake . . . !

“You’re late,” Mikasa snapped. “Do you even see what time it is?! It’s been an hour! Are you trying to get yourself fired?!” Eren blinked sluggishly. Late? How . . . ? How long had he slept for? Scratching his head, he bit his lip and checked the time. Shit. He was an hour (and four minutes) late. Well, that was a fucking problem. He cursed under his breath, and could practically see Mikasa frowning from the other end of the phone. Great, here came her motherly scolding. 

“Are you even trying to be responsible anymore, Eren?” Mikasa demanded. “First, you go sticking your nose in Marley business. Seriously? And now, you have the audacity to be late. I risked my ass to get you an interview with Marley Foundation. And now, look. You’re late to fucking work.” 

Well, shit, she sure loved to guilt-trip him. 

It was true, Eren had ‘stuck his nose’ in Marley business. The Marley Foundation was an exceptionally rich company that specialized in improving the health and being of people. They would often take in volunteers to work, and claimed to make groundbreaking discoveries everyday. 

Eren thought he had a pretty good bullshit detector, and it went off when dealing with the Marley Foundation. How could an organization which was privately funded be so prosperous, when they showed little to no results of their grand ‘work’ with the people? The results they claimed to gain were never distributed to the public. It all seemed like some big rouse to cover up something larger. 

And Eren -- wanted to get to the bottom of it. 

Some of the world’s most renown scientists worked for the Marley Foundation. Zeke Fritz, some hot-shot billionaire apparently, ran the place. Eren didn’t like him one bit. The dude’s paled blonde hair, thick beard, and cunning eyes didn’t sit well with him. The guy always seemed too smug, always one-step ahead of others. And he knew it, too. And took pride in it. He’d figured out long ago he was the smartest in the room, and used that to his advantage. Eren could see that. He wasn’t going to get easily manipulated, just like the majority of the world was. His guts weren’t wrong, and his handy bullshit-detector never failed him. He was positive Fritz was bad news. 

The people working for him -- seemed to be just as bad. But Eren couldn’t say all of them were. Because Mikasa worked for Marley Foundation. Eren had begged her not to accept the interview offered to her. It had been when he was first investigating the foundation, and apparently, they’d caught wind of him snooping. So what better way to stop him than to go for his beloved girlfriend? 

Of course, the offer had been too good to resist for Mikasa. She’d gladly accepted it, promising to either find out something wrong with the foundation, or to prove Eren wrong. And allegedly, he was proved wrong. But Eren was determined. ‘Stubborn’ was his middle name. It was instilled into his personality, his being, to never give up. Never surrender, never falter, never waver. Stay true to yourself, and no one else. So he did. He listened to his heart, and it told him Mikasa was wrong. 

He’d heard rumors, whispered spreadings that the Marley Foundation wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. But people were scared. Zeke Fritz and the people who worked for him, had power. No one really knew how he gained that power. Well, Eren did. Zeke was born into a rich family, one of the richest in the world. Dina Fritz was his mother, and someone unknown to the public was his father. People suspected the father was a poor man with no name, and Dina was ashamed to consider him part of the family. Either way, it didn’t change how powerful Zeke or his mother were. Apparently, they had England royal blood in them, and that was why they were filthy rich.

People who had money, people who had royal blood, were destined for a pampered life no matter what. If you waved enough money around, people would respect you even if you didn’t deserve it. If you showed a couple thousands of dollars to someone, you could get another person eliminated without a hitch. And for someone like Zeke Fritz, that seemed impossibly simple. 

So Eren knew he had to be careful. He couldn’t let himself slip up, and let it be known he was still working on the case. Of course, the Marley Foundation direct interview might give him away, but he’d try to be cautious. In the end, he decided he definitely wasn’t scared of Fritz or the foundation. He wouldn’t cower down to them like countless other people did. He’d stand up. 

Because what was happening in that place -- it reeked of bullshit from a mile away. All the ‘free volunteers’ weren’t really free. Eren had talked to three so far, each coming from different places and backgrounds. It was impossible they could have known each other, or formulated such perfectly coordinated lies. And why would some lowlifes want to try and tackle down the Marley Foundation? Their voices would be squashed -- to anyone but Eren, who wanted to hear them. 

Apparently, the Marley Foundation approached homeless people, or people in bad conditions, and offered them large sums of money. This only happened, though, if they willingly signed wavers and participated in experiments. What kind of experiments? Eddie didn’t know, and neither did anyone from the trio. They hadn’t accepted the offer. They must’ve also had bullshit-detectors. 

After all, why would they be conducting experiments on people? Why not start off smaller, with animals or something? Unless the experiments were made to directly alter people, and people only. And Fritz was crazy enough to just skip to human experiments. People weren’t meant to be lab rats. And why go after homeless people? Was it because they were already forgotten -- so no one would miss them if something went wrong? Was it so they could easily disappear off the face of the earth, and no one would notice? It all smelled fishy, and Eren didn’t like it. He was suspicious. 

When Mikasa had asked him to drive her to her interview, he’d accepted. Stepping into the Marley Foundation, he’d been more cemented into his beliefs. Everything was so picture-perfect and clean on the outside. The walls shimmered, the floors showed your reflection. Why was it so spotless? Maybe Eren was being too paranoid. But still, the picture-perfectness unsettled him. Sitting in that front waiting room, reading Marley Foundation magazines, he’d just grown more creeped out. 

Marley were so desperate for volunteers, they’d plastered ads to sign up everywhere on the magazines. The contents were all reports of alleged ‘progress on many diseases’ yet no specific disease was stated, and no documents of how the progress was made got reported. It was all too uncanny for Eren, and he could smell the stench of rot and lies from a whole mile away. 

And what did the public do about this blatant secrecy? They sat back, and let it happen. Too naive and brainwashed, even, to speak up. They thought Marley was genuinely doing good. And what about the government? They also did jack-shit. Apparently, privately-run experiments by rich psychos didn’t ring any alarm bells for them, and they were content to sit back on their asses. 

But Eren -- Eren was different. If no one wanted to spark change and demand answers, he’d be the voice. He’d be the one questioning things, and prodding for legitimate answers. If no one wanted to step up, then he would. He wasn’t content to just lean back and act like everything was okay!

Because goddammit -- his father had gone missing, and he was sure Marley was the reason why.

**Author's Note:**

> Eren's bullshit detector went "WEE WOO WEE WOO" and he's gonna get to the bottom of this shit. >:)


End file.
